


Two Fools Walk into a Tea Parlor (or why the narrator needs a break)

by Codename_Mallory_Grace



Series: various stand-alone Ferdinand/Hubert fics [10]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A lot of alliterations, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breaking the Fourth Wall, But Make It Stupid, Friendship, Friendship is calling out friends for pining while not recognizing you're pining too, Lorenz's Poetry, M/M, Mutual Pining, Narrator as a Character, Not Beta Read, POV Third Person Omniscient, Tea Parties, an attempt at a Lemony Snicket-esque Narrator, ferdinand and lorenz are determined to say in the victorian era, or whatever the fodlan equivalent is, probably purple prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codename_Mallory_Grace/pseuds/Codename_Mallory_Grace
Summary: Greetings, dear reader. As the narrator of this tender, yet tomfoolery-filled tale, it is also the narrator’s duty to apologize for using well-worn tropes. Yet, it is the nature of such dramatic creatures that certain dramatic elements will naturally reoccur. If, dear reader, you can forgive use of such fun, yet foolish tropes, then by all means, let the tale begin in earnest.*Lorenz and Ferdinand are pining fools, to point of causing pain in the other, their friends, and more importantly, the poor narrator for how blind the other is in their love for certain gentlemen.*
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir & Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Series: various stand-alone Ferdinand/Hubert fics [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483517
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Two Fools Walk into a Tea Parlor (or why the narrator needs a break)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this kink meme](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2082.html?thread=3521826#cmt3521826) (not full quote): 
> 
> "Okay so I’d love to see a scenario where BFFs Ferdinand and Lorenz can both see how badly the other is pining/in love/lust over Hubert and Claude respectively and they can’t believe how in denial the other is of their feelings. But they also are completely oblivious to their own pining!"
> 
> I hope the unusual narration only adds to the enjoyment of this prompt! These two are so ridiculous that only a ridiculous narrator could match them ^.^

Within the bustle of a recently modernized and urbanized small city, the streets near Garreg Mach University are filled with pedestrians leisurely walking to and fro on a lovely Saturday in the middle of Harpstring Moon. The air is brisk, but the skies are clearing of snow clouds, which lends the day easily to outings. Two student of Garreg Mach University take this wondrous day to meet and chat over a lavish tea set in a tea parlor. Their tea set’s pretensions to gentility is only matched by their conversation.

The taller of the pair, dressed in an overwhelming amount of purple that would give even the biggest proponent of purple prose a pause in portraying his portrait, gestures his hands empathically but still within a range, as to not interfere with workers or other customers, while he proclaims, “And then, when I caught up to him, he said that I could keep them! Well, naturally, that could not be allowed. Or at least, not when it was so one-sided. Needless to say, a week later, I returned the favor by gifting him book on Ancient Fodlan’s treaties he has been longing for.”

His partner, in almost perfect contrast dressed in all orange that could outshine the sun, sets his tea cup down with poise and asks, “Wherever did you manage to find that?”

“With its reserved number of copies published, the only means I had was to turn to my family’s collection.”

“You gave him a book from your own library?” If he was anyone else, his voice would portray dismay, but as that is not a polite and genteel tone to take with a dear friend, no matter how frustrating said friend is when it comes to dealing with matters of the heart in conjunction with a certain proclaimed rival, his voice only conveys a certain curiosity.

“Of course. Goddess knows my father and mother care little for those kinds of books, and I am, as you know, not inclined by such topics. Why should it not go to a person willing to respect it better than anyone in my family?”

However much the young man in orange wishes to yell at his friend about the depth of this gift, one does not simply give a “rival” a gift from one's family’s personal collection accumulated over generation, even if it is a favor returned, he merely presses the point, in the vein hope to reveal the depth of his friend’s feelings to this rival, “An unconventional point, my friend. Though I am sure there are many books in my family’s collection needing a better home, I would not have thought to give them as a gift.”

Understanding it as a slight, the young man in purple, picks up his tea cup as a shield to hide his hesitation, “You think it as inappropriate?”

Striking the iron while it is, well this is far from hot, so warming up, the young man in orange says, “No, if anything it proves how well you know Claude that he would like and know the significance of such book.”

“Yes. As deplorable as I find some of his behavior, he does have a sense for historical importance.”

Known to all, but the subject himself, this Claude only acts deplorable to draw the young man in purple’s attention. In fact, the only person who remains to have complaints about this Claude is Claude’s target himself. And unknown to all but this curious Claude, those complaints remain the highlight of his days and persuade him to continue drawing the young man in purple out of his poised sense of self. In fact, the only feature of Claude’s behavior is truly “deplorable” is that such behavior remains a barrier for the young man in purple to understand it as a sign of romantic-intended interest in him as a person. Very much to the ill-health and harm of those associated with the young man in purple and curious Claude. Such is the consequences of those who decide to court in such a convoluted fashion.

“But enough about myself, how is life treating you, dear Ferdinand?” the young man in purple, not at all reflecting on the hints his friends gave him, but pursuing his own line of inquiry.

Ferdinand, a fitting name for one so fulgurating in appearance, sighs a sigh befitting of a Byronic hero, an otherwise ill-fitting title, “As fine as it can be with a gloomy cloud that insist on hovering over every action I take.”

“Hubert?” The young man in purple perks up. Clueless he might be when it comes to Claude’s true nature, he becomes as sharp as a rose’s throne when the topic of Ferdinand and Hubert’s ever evolving relationship. How far the young man’s future might be if his directed his insights inward.

“Despite being a graduate student, he still finds it necessary to impose his presence within the undergraduate sections of campus. No doubt to check with Edelgard and offer unwanted assistance. She is an adult now. Surely he can see how superfluous his presence has become in her life.” A tone of bitterness buries itself in Ferdinand’s voice.

“Has he done something untoward to you?” The young man asks as if Ferdinand is a maiden in danger of drawing attention from a, proper, Byronic hero. Though, by all assessment but Ferdinand’s, it is already too late as a brooding hero has sights on our fair maiden.

“Nothing more than his general slights. Standing in front of my classroom every morning with a noxious smelling mug of coffee and a sardonic smile. Sitting at the table aside mine in library with his incessant typing that should constitute as a noise violation.Sharing an apartment with Edelgard, which only becomes unfortunate when Dorothea wishes to spend time alone with Edelgard. I do not know why Dorothea insists I be the one to bring Hubert out of his apartment, but I wish she would find someone else. Or better for everyone, Hubert von Vestra needs more friends.”

Despite his appearance sharing brightness on par with the sun, Ferdinand’s mind cannot claim the same characteristic. For every complaint, he seemingly forgets, ignores, or is ignorant to all the enjoyment he savors in every encounter. When Hubert stands in front of his classroom, he also offers Ferdinand and Edelgard their choice drink. When studying the library, Ferdinand focuses better with a light soundtrack, such as keys typing. Whenever Dorothea needs him to play interference, it is rarely without a plan: reservation for dinner, flyers for nearby events, reminders that Ferdinand has a car and Hubert likes drives at night.

Relieved Hubert has not acted rashly towards his friend, and though the young man in purple does not know the smaller details, he teasingly asks, “You have spent quite a bit of time with the man, haven’t you?”

“Rest assured, dear Lorenz, his company pales in comparison to yours.”

Lorenz, a name uncommonly shared by many accomplished mathematicians and medicine-men in surname, though that is where similarities end, preens at Ferdinand’s comment, “Naturally. Though, I have to say, I am relieved that it is you who Dorothea turns to in those times.”

“Whatever could have you say that?”

“Imagine if it was Claude, or Goddess protect us, Lysithea. I do not believe the school, let alone the city, could survive a night with any of those combinations together.”

Familiar friends with both Claude and young Lysithea, Lorenz has been on the wrong end of too many “experiments” or “schemes”. Adding von Vestra's brand of poison would make even the fiercest humans quake. Lorenz shives at the very thought. Though, the number of schemes played on Lorenz has decreased in recent months. For unknown reasons to Lorenz, but clear to everyone else.

“I was not aware they were friends,” Ferdinand frowns. In this single regard, no fault lays with Ferdinand. Few knows of the trio’s bond. Outside of their victims, who, often times, are so terrorized they know not to speak of the dealings the three have. As to why Lorenz knows, it must be subtle sign that one of the three trust him.

But as subtly is not Lorenz’s specialty, he says, “Hmm… Less friends and more… Allies in all things absurd. Claude tells me that Hubert has developed a concoction that will temporary turn a victim’s nails green.”

“How ghastly! Is that why he requests lab access every semester?”

“Does he now?”

“Yes. Once he accompanied me there after-hours after I had missed lab due to illness.”

Lorenz desires nothing more than to remind Ferdinand that Hubert von Vestra does not do favors for anyone, besides Edelgard von Hresvelg. And he, for all the faults he finds in von Vestra, laments the unsung work the Byronic hero does to gain the attention of fair Ferdinand. Necessary work for courting, but a shame it goes by without attention. How Lorenz wishes someone would court him with such concern for his person.

“How unusually kind of him,” Lorenz dare prods Ferdinand into thinking more about Hubert.

“I suppose he has his moment,” Ferdinand sighs, while Lorenz leans forward in anticipation. Perhaps this is a breakthrough? A moment before a shift in seeing Hubert von Vestra in a new light? Lorenz falls back into his seat when Ferdinand continues, “So, how is your partnered project with Claude and Hilda progressing?”

As the conversation continues, please, dear readers, excuse the narration from departing from scene early, as the narrator would like to spare all those who dare reads these words from a pompous conversation that contains nothing more than a pot calling the kettle black. Entertaining as it might be, there are only so many ways the young men can goad each other into a realization, which might need a more swift and sure strike, in a single conversation. But be well assured, they converse in good fun and depart refreshed with plans for another tea party.

And be well assured, others have taken noticed in these two young men blind pinning.

For instance, during a supposed meeting for a group project about possible environmental measures the university could take, a young lady by the name Hilda Valentine Goneril takes matters in her own hands and unceremoniously shoves Lorenz, still dressed in so much purple that only blinded by love could one find the color still appealing, and Claude, the not-so-suave hero blinded by love and often too busy arguing with Lorenz while watching Lorenz’s lips speak the most creative challenges to his ideas, into a janitor’s closet deep within the library where they were to conduct a group meeting. Though she stands shelves away from the locked closet door, in fear she might hear something from her best friend and third best friend she would rather never know. Fortunately for this narrator, no such sounds come from the closet.

Two hours the two spend inside a space with floorspace no bigger than five-feet by five-feet. Two hours the two revel in rivalry thinly disguised for romance. A valiant attempt by Miss Hilda, but their time in the closet only assures Claude of his feelings for Lorenz, and lets him know that Hilda knows, and Lorenz that while charming, clever, compassionate Claude might be, he is still a contrarian. Never mind the smile and good mood Lorenz maintains for the next two days. At this point, one, like Hilda, might assume Lorenz is intentionally playing clueless. But, no, Lorenz remains oblivious to Claude’s increasingly candid courtship and to his own feelings.

As for Ferdinand, not much more progress is made. Dorothea, friend to Ferdinand and Hubert and dating Edelgard von Hresvelg, much like Hilda, decides enough is enough and forces the two together. In the name of love, for them and herself because Hubert third-wheels her and Edelgard far too often, Dorothea gifts Ferdinand to give to Hubert tickets to a new play put on by Garreg Mach’s community theater. A show about two princes of rival nations overcoming sins of the fathers and finding everlasting peace for their countries. Though heavily political, the show focuses on the prince’s growing relationship of overcoming their differences and forming promises to live for each other. It is hardly a direct parallel, Dorothea knows, but it explicit enough that it will force Ferdinand to reflect, even a little, about the nature of his relationship with Hubert.

Therefore, it is quite natural, when Ferdinand tells Dorothea his thoughts on the play the next day, thoughts only relating to politics and appreciation for the princes’ collaborative natures, for Dorothea to cut the call short with “Ferdie, you dumbass!”

The narrator extends sympathy to young Ferdinand for the harsh words, yet cannot muster any more for another tea party with Lorenz soon follows.

“Dorothea said that?” Lorenz, dares not repeating the exact words for once was enough in polite company, asks with mirth in his mouth at Ferdinand’s recounting. Trust a thespian to turn to the theater in trying times, thinks Lorenz.

“Yes. It is not the first time she has called me that, but this time, I cannot figure out what caused it.”

“Truly a mystery,” Lorenz says overly sarcastically, to which clues Ferdinand in that his friend is joking more than he lets on.

“You understand why she said it?” asks Ferdinand in a way not unlike how a beloved childhood labradoodle puppy asks to play fetch.

Met with such genuine inquiry, what else could Lorenz say, but his reading on Dorothea’s behavior, “Well, perhaps it has to do with the reason why she gave you those tickets in particular to attend that particular play with von Vestra.”

“Is it not to get Hubert to vacant his shared apartment with Edelgard?”

Aghast that that reading could very well be the true meaning, Lorenz tries, valiantly, once more “Well, yes, but perchance, is it possible she has other reasons for it?”

Ferdinand, thinks more about his friends odd phrases than the meaning of the odd words, which means he draws the side conclusion: “Coy, while flattering, is hardly the best look for you, my friend.” While not objectively wrong, Ferdinand missed the mark. 

“I believe in this instance, I am being perfectly blunt, alongside Dorothea,” it is only due to sophisticated and cultivated upbringing that Lorenz’s reply does not cross into a heavy-handed approach, which just might overwhelm Ferdinand if he still cannot see what is right in front of him. How deep his feelings run if it still remains unknown to the man himself, Lorenz muses unironically. 

Unsure of what the funny feeling inside himself, Ferdinand turns the table onto Lorenz, “And I believe you have spent too much time talking circles around Claude.”

“Claude? What does he have to do with this conversation?” As if the mere mention of Claude’s name turns Lorenz’s mind into nothing but declarations about Claude. Declarations too numerous to recount, but all said with a frustrated tone that anyone, save Lorenz, understands as fond nevertheless.

Forming a Cheshire-cat grin, not unpleasant on Ferdinand’s face as his naturally curling up lips lend itself well to such expression, he says, “Nothing. At least, nothing more than a comparison. It is you, dear friend, that is reading more into my words.”

Lost for words, Lorenz says, “Coyness does not play to your strengths.”

Coyness plays a smaller role in this tableau these gentlemen have created for themselves than they imagine.

And so another tea party continues. A grand success, they think. A collective facepalm, for lack of a better term, the world performs as these two continue with their blissful existences.

A week passes where the narrator finds little of great importance to impart onto you, dear readers. Though drama awaits in the wings.

For an unlikely ally assists Hilda in ending the ouroboros pining between best friend number three and four.

It is an open secret to those who know Lorenz beyond his self-righteous sense of self that the young man writes poetry. Never intending to publish, said poetry is a pure expression of all Lorenz’s emotions, the dark, the good, the sad, the confused, the bright, of uneven quality. The most dubious of quality within Lorenz’s collections would be those about Claude. Pardon, about “the huffing wind only a giant could create/in a grand hero’s need. Oh, how desirable/it is to feel such wind and its guidance. Where does it go next?” Dear readers, forgive the narrator’s impertinence for assuming.

Returning to the unlikely ally, who is unlikely in that such dubiousness is not her inheritance nature, she finds said poem expounding the wondrous qualities of the mythical wind, among with many others, and shares them with Hilda. And Claude. To their shared shock.

Hilda never knew Lorenz to be so sensitive and insensitive at the same time. She would march up to his apartment if was not for Claude’s reaction. Many thoughts flutter in the brilliant mind of one Claude von Reigan, but the clearest one yells "Lorenz loves me!" He suspected it so, but to see it plainly in a series of poems makes it all the more real. All the more reason to gamble on his feelings!

Thoughts and actions happen all too quickly to properly narrate.

All the same, by the end of the day, Claude visits Lorenz, gives back the poetry with a smirk qualifying him as a lovable rogue, and shares the night with Lorenz. A night filled with loud laughs, soft sighs, tentative touches, self-satisfied smirks that the other is swift to turn into sincere smiles.

It is not all smooth sailing, for the morning after, neighbors of the apartment are awakened by a debate about the benefits and cost of a new toll system in the heart of Derdriu. Neither would have it any other way, while those around them only slightly regret bringing these two closer together. Is it now better that these debates end with the two kissing and necking to the point it becomes a public debate of tongues? Well, at least they are quick about exiting public spaces. 

As for Ferdinand, a friend with an already credible cunning character reveals all to Ferdinand.

Indeed, in a reversal of roles, Dorothea, with assistance from her beloved, unveils all of Hubert’s thoughts to Ferdinand. Horrified at first at the invasion of privacy, not to mention Hubert’s, Ferdinand quiets when he reads the words. It is not hard to miss the lovely shade of red that overcomes his face. While orange and red are hardly fitting colors together, Ferdinand wears them well with a love-struck expression.

Perhaps not as objectionable as Lorenz’s poetry, for this writing does not purport to be more than musings of a besotted man, the compliments are just as… elevated: “Even in the deepest of depth, I am confident his brilliance could penetrate the darkness. What other explanation could I have for having being struck by such brilliance myself. It is an unrelenting force of nature that will not bend, yet that does not mean to claim it is inflexible. A gift it is to witness. What must it be like to have such passion directed towards a single target?”

Not one for bold behaviors like Claude, or at least in matters this close and dear to his heart, Ferdinand packs the compliments back into the folder Dorothea placed in front of him and pulls out his own paper and pen.

The next day, to Hubert’s horror, Ferdinand hands him back the thought-to-be-lost folder looking like a blushing maiden. Hubert’s horror continues until he dares open the folder, examining it for lost or misplaced papers, and finds, in handwriting quite unlike his own slanted and stilled letters, saccharine sentiments that no one has ever dared to grant him or his person: “Though blinded I was, like many other, his kindness shines as a small light on a dark night. Perhaps like a firefly. Instilling hope without knowing. Guiding without knowing. Selfish I have been for receiving graces from the warm light, but now, I can see it the truth behind it and, if the light permits, stand by its side as it shines in the night.”

It is unfortunate that the following days' progress amounts to nothing more than note passing; each increasing their tenderness. All this couple needs now is a dramatic run in the rain, falling deathly ill from the rain, then being saved by a lover’s tending to fulfill a complete historical romance drama.

Thankfully, all are spared from that display of affection.

So far. Garland Moon's rain threatens to fall each passing day.

But the tale continues where it all began, in a tea parlour in the middle of Garreg Mach, sits two gentlemen of impressive upbrings, but their appearances are enhanced by the plain signs of love each wears on their sleeves.

"So, as I suspected, Claude has been using his so-called schemes as a way to draw your attention," says Ferdinand, with a smile all too much like a cat that got the cream.

His dear friend and similar fool in love, Lorenz, does not let him forget that latter facet, "Just as much as I suspected Hubert's act of kindness to you as a sign of his feelings."

All is said in good teasing, and soon their conversation devolving into spouting the virtues of their paramours. The staff of the tea parlour, so used to the antics of these two colorful people, ignore them. Though, a lovely lady with fluffy brown hair and a spirited young lass can be seen, in the corners of the parlour exchanging a small amount of gold, before typing something on their phones. All is business as usual for this cozy tea parlour.

Except for a ruckus at the entrance, where Claude and Hubert stand! Both, known for preferring coffee, stand and ask for entrance to a tea parlor. They are aware of the services, and the lack of services, offered in such a place, correct?

True be told, it appears they hold little interest in the menus, as soon as they spot our lovely dou, they make haste to their table.

"Dearie!" Claude calls out just above the polite volume level for conversations in such a setting.

"Claude," Lorenz snaps when Claude swings a chair from an adjacent around and sits with the back of the chair against his chest. "You are being extremely rude."

Hubert reveals his villainous side, that only Ferdinand finds makes Hubert's face more attractive, with a snide, "It is a wonder, then, that you dare let this fool into your life anymore than you do."

While happy for his friend, Lorenz cannot hold back his reservations about this man, "And I could say the same about Ferdinand. You are fortunate that dear Ferdinand finds your own appalling manners charming and entertains them."

"Lorenz," Ferdinand, knowing his friend's passion to be unbound by anything once it overtakes him, attempts to calm him. It is to no avail.

Though, amusingly, it is Claude's, "Now, now, boys, we aren't here to fight," that seems to lessen Lorenz ire.

"Seems" because Lorenz still asks, "Yes, why are you here?"

If all eyes were not on Claude, an observant viewer might spot a vein or two protruding from Hubert's forehead. Whatever has brought him here is a painful reason. Though,as this tale has demonstrated, when it comes to subtle signs in their beloved, no one at this table is skilled at such minute reading.

"To set up a double date, of course!" Claude announces with the playfulness of a kitten with the seriousness of a hunting tiger.

"Double date? With who?" Lorenz gets an ill and foreboding feeling, which Claude is often the cause. Though, in many cases, the feeling turns pleasant once Claude reveals his hands. It is just that Claude never reveals his hands until the last minute.

"You and me and Ferdie and Hubie, of course."

Ferdinand, pleased to just watch Lorenz with Claude in a softer tone than before, cannot help his exclaim of "What a wonderful idea, Claude!"

"Thanks, Ferdie! It's about time. We've had this planned for months now."

"What?" Lorenz and Ferdinand exclaim, drawing the remaining patrons' attentions; if it was not already claimed by Claude and Hubert's arrival.

With a furrow brow, Hubert grumbles. "Von Reigan has been pestering me for months about this. I would rather we just get this out of the way."

"I promised you, Hubie, that you'd have fun on this date too."

"This is all part of your scheme?" Lorenz asks, wearing a well-wary face.

"If by scheme, you mean to date you, then yes? I've been asking you out for at least a year."

"What?"

"Well, I'm not as bad as Hubie, who has been courting, his words not mine, Ferdie for three years."

"What?" asks Ferdinand, human-turned-parrot.

"So, how about that double date?" Claude leans his elbows on the table to hold up his smiling face.

Alas, this narrator was so caught up in the dramatics of Ferdinand and Lorenz and failed to see the true plot of the tale. Rather pining, it was planning! How patient these heroes were to wait years to take action! A marvelous maneuver of misdirection!

The tea party concludes with a planned sequel within the next week to take place at University's Garland Festival.

Perhaps, that is a tale best told from the perspectives of the masterminds. A deeper insight on their minds might reveal the depths of their affections for —

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Ahem. No. Pardon the narrator, dear readers, for remaining to narrate Ferdinand and Lorenz’s gentlemanly, if grandiose minds.

The narrator will close the tale with these words:

Embrace the moonlight for its own radiance, fair Ferdinand. Challenge the sunlight to shine brighter, lovely Lorenz.

**Author's Note:**

> Closing remarks from the narrator: "Please note in the telling of the tale, no persons were injured or insulted. Only the fondest intentions towards the featured characters."
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
